For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. I'll try to think better of him in future. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. Stanley, to which the two ladies subordinated themselves intelligently. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. “For me there is no second turn. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man.
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